


'Tactical' gossips

by Grain_Crain



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-02-10 23:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grain_Crain/pseuds/Grain_Crain
Summary: Just three old timers gossiping about their young comrades. General fluffs and positive relationship stories. There will be more characters involved as the chapter goes, which I will put on the tags when they appear.





	1. Chapter 1

As someone who has lived most of his life in the Hereford base, Mike could proudly say he is part of the living legend in the S.A.S. He has endured countless of hostile situations, experienced three wars and survived with several medals on his chest. Amongst his kind, he is deemed to be a seasoned soldier with ageless sharpened sense. Maybe the secret of his prolonged prime is because of being stubborn about the fancy changes in the military equipment. He regards laser sight to be a hindrance against his honed skills and he barely accepted the EMP grenades as his gadget. Thankfully, the Team Rainbow has been such pleasure for Mike since he got to meet some of the older veterans and officers who have similar ideas on how weapons should be. This, this is the primary motive behind the hangouts between three of the oldest operators. To him, these two have unique gadgets, which intrigues Mike during their practice and real hostile encounter. The three began to occasionally sit together during meals and play a simple card game to kill some time and ease their built up nerves.

Tonight is no different from their usual gathering. A dim-lit table in the living room reflects on a bottle that contains amber liquour set a calm ambiance. The base is peacefully quiet, especially with the majority of the young blood out in the city to seek for livelier population. Some of the older ones are already knocked off into slumber but Thatcher knows that he would only gain some private company at 0200. One would think that old people have an easier time to sleep, but for such individuals who has been living in constant stress and alert, the trauma of their younger days jabs their subconscious in forms of nightmare.

“Straight flush.” Says a voice who sits across from Mike. The other man puts his cards down and sighs.

“I swear that you aren’t honest in this game.” Gilles frowns at the winner of the round and sips on his share of whiskey.

“Accusing me of foul play? Have some faith.” Vicente spreads his arms on the table and shows how bare they are, bearing no room to hide a single card. Mike suspects Vicente as well but he chooses not to care since he isn’t the one losing the bet.

“Looks like I will be saving my money after all.” Mike grins at deep crevices on Gilles’ forehead.

“Alright. I am done for the night.” Gilles’ announces his defeat and pushes his chair back a little. He shuffles, takes out few notes of ten pounds and tosses them on the table.

“Fair enough. I was starting to worry about your retirement plans.” Mike comments with a devious grin and Vicente laughs along. Gilles’ feigns a frown and smiles as well.

“I am still in the game; just not the cheating kind.” Gilles pours another glass for himself and raises his eyebrows at Vicente.

“Speaking of games, have you heard any more from your boys? They seem to be playing some sort of mind-plays.” Vicente ignores the confrontation and asks Mike. For a few seconds, Mike freezes and tries to remember what Vicente is talking about, then he remembers the last time Seamus paid him a visit at the dining room.

“Indeed that I have. Why, I might have gained an extra wrinkle, thanks to those wankers.” The oldest operator gulps a large amount from his glass and runs his fingers against the graying hair.

“What about them?” Gilles asks and shifts closer to Mike who is massaging on his temple. Vicente keeps his eyes on the French, shuffles the cards and sneaks a few under his singlet.

The story began a few months ago when Mike finally became comfortable with his fellow comrades of S.A.S. At first, the younger operators hesitated to approach Mike, the grouchy old myth. It was James who broke the ice by asking the origin of Mike’s operator name, and started to call him ‘Maggie’ since then. The other two were polite enough to call Mike by his code name or surname, but that cheeky bastard James kept calling him Maggie in a similar tone of a child calling for his mother.

“Oh, just call me Margaret, why don’t you?” He asked James in an unimpressed tone, clearly not amused.

"Blimey. Where is the love in that?" James gasped in a dramatic manner and placed his hand on the chest as if he was offended on personal levels. Ever since that day, James became the ‘nutjob #1’ on Mike’s mental note. Eventually, he filtered out James’ annoying humour and never shown much reaction because Mike was an experienced professional at mentoring little shits. It also helped that James was actually useful in missions, which Mike gave him full credit for. The team bonded through practices and mission. All of them slowly became chummy, which satisfied Mike because he equated positive relationship between teammates as a higher chance for them to survive. He didn't dare to show any mellow emotions, but he fully appreciated the talented individuals of his squad. Everything was in order under his careful observation of his and other squads' operators. This sense of harmony was short lived when one night, James decided to drag Mike out of his bunk bed.

“Fuck off.” Mike groaned and tried to swat away the finger that kept poking his shoulder.

"Don't tell me that you are senile already," James whispered.

“I can tell you that we've got an early morning routine tomorrow. Stop acting fresh and go to sleep.” Mike squinted at the crouched frame in front of him and he could still see that James was lingering around. The typical loud mouth was unusually silent as if he had finally learned to think before he spoke. It was a rare sight that stirred a little bit of curiosity in Mike’s drowsy brain, but he really wanted to close his dry eyes without being disturbed.

“Mike, please. I need your thought on this.” The seriousness of James' tone woke Mike up, who wondered what could be so important to drop the whole clown-act. Although he doubted that there was anything important, Mike agreed to have a talk with James and stepped out of the bunk as quietly as possible. They sat outside near the garage shutter and Mike gained more conscience when cool breeze tickled his goose bumps. It was a long wait for him to hear James’ big news and Mike probably would have nodded off to sleep if James didn’t spill the beans anytime soon.

“You reckon a one night stand can be made into something more than a good shag?” James blurted and stared at Mike for some sort of approval.

“As long as your condom was intact.” Mike tried his best to be subtle.

“It didn’t break, but that’s not the issue," James answered.

“I think any women would appreciate that." Mike replied and thought that James was a daft product of the shitty sexual education that the United Kingdom offered.

“Wasn't a girl,” James' sudden revelation of his sexual preference surprised Mike only for a short moment, not out of negative judgement but at how James appeared to trust Mike with such a big confession.

“Who is it?” Mike asked and hoped it wasn’t the yanks. Oh, please. Not the Americans.

“You know him. Our quiet lad.” James shifted back and forth in a way a child behaved when he got caught eating something forbidden.

“You fucking what?” Mike's rhetorical question had a mixture of disbelief and frustration. There were many emotional situations that he dealt with while mentoring the newest recruits. They mostly involved heated competitiveness or miscommunication of arrogance. Mike knew how to solve those, but the romance in the military? Mike only heard about those scenarios. Love wasn’t Mike’s field of expertise, given by how he practically married to his job.

“I know, I am a bloody poofter. We were piss drunk at a bar and things led on and on.” James hung his head low as if he was trying to hide the regret in coming out. Mike saw the tinge of red on James' face and tried to find the right words.

“Listen. Whoever you choose to drag into your bed doesn’t matter to me. I am not going to be judging you on who you chase after. As long as you do your job while holding a gun, you can be whoever you are.” Mike softened his gaze at James who stared back at him with a genuine surprise. “I don’t know much about wooing anyone but you could use your jokes. It’s about time to put them in good use.” Mike teased with a smirk. He was relieved to see James cheekily rolling his eyes with less tension on his shoulders.

“Always the wise one, Maggie.” James teased and chuckled.

“No need to state the obvious. Now, let me sleep for God’s sake.” Mike walked back and left James behind. His pace was quicker than the usual as brain busily pondered upon the unfamiliar situation. He assured himself and was confident in his decision of supporting James. It was the best he could do. The most crucial thing in any relationship is respect, and Mike gave it to James. It was James' responsibility to find the balance between his personal and work life. If this all worked out nicely, James and Mark could have something to look forward after their military retirement, unlike Mike himself.

The story halts as Mike falls silent for a break.

“You have told us that story last week," Gilles says as he stretches his arms out of boredom.

“Didn’t it go well? Those two work quite nicely together, no?” Vicente adds on.

“There is more to it. They weren’t the problem,” Mike pauses and massages his temples again.

“It was Seamus.”


	2. Chapter 2

Towering boulder of a human-built heavy weapon. That was the first impression of Seamus when the S.A.S recruited him. Despite being treated as the revolutionary in the field of tactical breaching, Seamus didn’t let himself slip into cocky mannerism. The way he used confidence and modesty definitely helped his troop’s morale. Mike cherishes Seamus’ attitude as a front man and regards his physique as mere a gift from the Scottish heritage. This doesn’t mean that Mike sees Seamus as some sort of perfect soldier because humans are, and will always be, fragile as ever. Seamus has an air of composure and calm, but Mike has been noticing the hidden side of Seamus under the gas mask.

“Is he gay as well?” Vicente lets out a long stream of smoke from his cigar.

“Let me finish first,” Mike closes his eyes to think for a better explanation.

Mike guessed Seamus to be one of those people who tire themselves out for the sake of the group. He had never been the one to bring the mood down around his comrades, especially with his closer peers. Being with the other three exceptional members of S.A.S somehow appeared to relieve Seamus from the loneliness of idolisation that he has been receiving from the British army.

“’Exceptional,’ he says. Try to be modest, will you?” Gilles scoffs at how Mike is describing the S.A.S as a bunch of wacky genius.

“Fuck’s sake, do you want me to finish?” Mike’s scowl amuses the other two.

After being recruited by the Rainbow, the British lot stayed within themselves. Mike had always been a step behind the three younger comrades and watched their friendship grow. James was the one who acted chummy and touchy with Mark. He dragged the poor guy out of the barrack and claimed to give Mark the opportunity of ‘catching up with all of the social skills that he missed out as a teenager.’ Seamus tagged along as a self-imposed mediator, but he was mostly eager to be with James. The three hopped between bars and clubs during their free time to the point of having Seamus carrying either of James or Mark back to the barrack. However, the seemingly unbreakable friendship was disturbed after James came out of the closet to Mike. The segregation wasn’t visibly obvious at first, as it was some small details like James talking less with Seamus or Mark trying to initiate more conversation with James. Within a few weeks, Seamus also took a step back from the two and banished himself to the workshop to clean his shotgun and breaching hammer. This went on almost every day until the two came to seek for him. Although this whole ordeal resembled one of those cringe inducing high-teen drama, Mike began to pity Seamus when James and Mark paid less visit to the workshop. Realising that he was being left out, Seamus stopped spending his time polishing his weapons and began to pump exercise machines religiously. He trapped himself in a trance and ignored people around him. Time passed by and Mike could feel the thin layer of tension between the three. Nobody made an issue out of this because their teamwork was still flawless during the hostile situations and missions.

“See, here is something that I don’t understand,” Gilles gently swirls his glass. “Why don’t you Englishmen talk?” The question confuses Mike and makes him wonder if Gilles has been paying attention.

“I believe I have been talking fine.” Mike replies and slows his words as if Gilles isn’t capable of understanding English.

“No, no. As in, why doesn’t Seamus tell the two about how he feels? You could have intervened as well, all four of you could have a diplomatic chat.” Gilles speaks in a condemning tone as if Mike has failed with his job at being the senior of the group.

“They are not children nor I am their nanny. If they have problems, they should sort it out within themselves. If you let me finish, you will know that I did my job.” Mike huffs. Before Gilles adds another objection, Mike fastens the pace of his story to the night when Seamus decided to talk. His visit wasn’t as sneaky as James’ as it happened during their dinner. Mike could spot the tall Scot from meters away walking towards him. Seamus wasn’t looking at Mike as his eyes were locked on the table that his former-best friends sat. He kept watching them and blindly shifted his legs between the bench and the table. He managed to sit beside Mike without pushing him over.

“Evening,” Seamus finally turned his head to Mike and gave him an awkward, straight-lined smile.

“Evening.” Mike replied and curtly nodded.

The two chewed their food in silence and let the background noise fill the gap between them. Mike didn’t plan to stay long since his tray was on the brink of being empty, but that was until Seamus finally said something.

“Do you notice something different?” Seamus cocked his head at James and Mark, who weren't noticing their fellow comrades across the room.

“What of?” Mike feigned ignorance.

“Them.” said Seamus and dipped his head again in an exaggerated motion.

“Well, I know that you are not with them.” Mike replied.

“Have they said something to you?” Seamus asked the question that Mike hoped to not hear.

“It’s not my business to tattle about what’s been said. Why don’t you ask them yourself?” Seamus furrowed his eyebrows at Mike and looked visibly unsatisfied.

“I would have if they haven’t been avoiding me. I can’t exactly ambush them when I am two meters tall and looking like a pasty white ogre. ” Mike refrained from laughing and tried to respect Seamus’ frustration.

“They will come to you when they come.” Mike honestly didn’t want to solve this issue for them. Yes, he did care about these pansies but he had no energy to be their carrier pigeon.

“And if they don’t?” asked Seamus who stared at Mike as if he was waiting to hear a favourable answer.

“Find better friends who won’t be such stuck ups.” Mike grabbed his tray and was eager to leave before Seamus flooded him more questions.

“Even if I fancy him?” Seamus blurted out loud and gained some attention. Mike was grateful for Seamus’ tendency to have a thicker accent when he was stressed, because none of the other operators seemed to understand what Seamus had just said. To prevent Seamus from spitting out more of his personal life, Mike pulled the taller man out of the dining room and ordered him to wait by the door. He went back and came out with two familiar faces who froze at the sight of Seamus. Mike gripped tight on the collar of James' and Mark's shirts, then stomped towards the secluded area of the barrack.

“Alright, talk.” Mike firmly stood with his arms crossed and waited for them to say something. The longest minute passed and Mike thought of leaving the scene to give them some privacy.

“James,” Mark called with his voice deeper than the usual, “I don’t think it was you who I slept with that night.” All three exchanged a confused look.

“But we woke up together, butt-naked. Didn't we shag?” James blushed, placed his hands in the pockets and tried to hide something on his groin.

“No, when we did it again the day after you asked me out, your dick... wasn’t the same.” Mark made a tiny gap between his index and thumb, which deepened the shade of red on James' face.

“Oh. Oh no.” Seamus squat down and hid his face between his knees.

“Was it you?” When Mark asked Seamus, James was whispering a chant of denial.

“Yes. Well, I think so.” Seamus lifted his head up and answered in quiet voice, “but I thought you were James.” Seamus' words created even more emotional meltdown between the three.

“Well, where the fuck were you when we woke up in the motel?” James raised his voice and directed his disappointment of one-night mistake at Seamus.

“I went back to the barracks because we weren't supposed to stay outside! You were awake when I left, so I thought you guys came with me but didn't, and I have been wanting to talk to you but you kept avoiding me, making me wonder if you are talking shite about me!” Seamus finally exploded and let all of the pent-up stress out loose. That was the side of Seamus that Mike saw through his façade because he knew that the Scot pretended like nothing affected him while he was very conscious of what other people thought of him.

“Of course I wouldn’t talk to you when I thought I fucked Mark! I was avoiding almost everybody because for once in my life, I was trying to be responsible.” James spat out the last word as if he had recently started to learn about the concept. No one said anything and the silence crept back to create a thicker layer of tension. Mike’s head throbbed with annoyance and he contemplated on how to resolve this sappy soap opera. He leered at each and every one of these whipper snappers and decided to assume the role that he has spent his entire life into. Mike quickly fixed his posture into a sturdy stance with his right arm angled and touched his hipbone. It was the stance that every British army man should know.

“Cowden, Porter, Chandar," Mike called them with raspy and curt voice, which they responded by leaping up and standing similarly to Mike. “Do you swear to the Queen and on your honour as the member of Special Air force Service, that we will serve and protect for the safety of this nation?” The three took their time, unsure of what to make out of this situation. They murmured their answers in unison.

“You have led yourselves astray from the duties as a soldier." There was clear anger in Mike's intonation. “It is fundamental that we ensure success in every missions given to us. Even the most absolute cooperation will grant you a very small chance of survival during the hostile attacks, and you have been neglecting your rights to communicate because of one night's misunderstanding.” No one opposed to those words that spoke the truth. “Am I going to fight alongside the soldiers who do not value their comrades’ lives?” Mike spoke low and deliberately with more volume. They denied and stared straight back at Mike.

“Good. Now I am going to suggest you lot to talk and sort out the mess that you have put yourselves into. I don’t care if all of you wankers fucking choose to wank each other off or pretend that this has never happened. If the two of you wants the one-on-one relationship, the third party will have to accept their wish and remain respectful. Am I understood?” After witnessing a clear salute from the three, Mike nodded and left the area. The next day when he met them, they were moving in groups of three as if nothing had happened. It was a pain to endure James’ taunts on how Mike sounded like a patriotic grandpa, but it was an even trade considering how James stopped calling Mike ‘Maggie' after that.

“That is the most unnecessarily dramatic and non-diplomatic way to solve an emotional problem.” Gilles yawns and rubs on his eyes.

“I think that hit the right spot for them, actually.” Vicente smiles, obviously impressed with how he handled the situation. He offers to fill another cup of rum for Mike. 

“I will pass. I need to sort something out before bed.” Mike stands up and walks towards the garage area.

“You forgot to tell us one more thing,” Mike turns around and waits for Vicente to finish his sentence.

“Did they end up together or single?” A grin appears on Mike’s tired face which deepens the bags under his eyes.

“They are wankers, Vicente, immature fucks. If they get into trouble, I won't be the one saving their arses in the future.” Gilles hears a faint jingle of keys and remembers how the garage door to the utility truck has been used without any delivery. Mike winks at both men and puts his finger to the lips before walking out.

"Not a nanny, he says."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To put it simply:
> 
> Seamus fancies James but fucked Mark, thinking it was James.
> 
> James likes Mark  
> and Mark initially enjoyed sex with Seamus without knowing that it was him, and then agreed to go out with James because James said that he was the one who had sex with Mark (James only assumed that he did because they woke up naked together.) 
> 
> They were all bunch of confused mess who got piss drunk.
> 
> Whole thing ends up as a happy poly datey and Mike tries his best to support them while being shit at communicating.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Honesty is the best policy' has been the motto that Gilles holds to his heart whenever his moral sense wanes. He uses this philosophy to forge a strong bond between him and his team together, which had been mostly successful. You will often see the GIGN crew having petty arguments and huge fights, but all those eventually become valuable learning experiences for them. Over the two years, Gilles has come to regard the GIGN and a handful of other operators to be part of his family and close friends.

While Gilles is extremely proud of his way of living, there are times when he faces the negative consequences of being overtly tactless. He is quick to admit his errors, and then releases his shame-induced stress by working his brains out in the workshop. The process of rebuilding and deconstructing ‘Le Roc’ calms him down and gives him something to fidget in his hands while thinking over his mistakes. In times of his internal conflict, Gilles usually prefers to be alone, but recently he has come across a conflict that is beyond his problem-solving skills. Although he isn't usually the one to admit that honesty isn’t the skeleton key to every problems, he needs to make an exception tonight if he wants to discuss the issue with Mike and Vicente.

“Stop fondling with your shield and ‘fess up.” Mike mumbles and checks the clock in the workshop. It is almost midnight and the number of empty rum bottles on the floor indicates how long they had been waiting for Gilles to talk.

“I could still solve this on my own.” Gilles mutters without looking at the other two men.

“I would let you, but you are the one making us wait for hours and still have the audacity to ask for our opinion on one of your freshly gay idiots.” Mike rubs his chin and clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“Alright, I will talk. But don’t call him that.” Gilles admits, lifts his head and begins to talk. He recounts the day when Julien told the GIGN crew about his interest in one particular guy, so the crew excitedly supported him with advice and tactics they learned from their own experiences. They knew it ought to be the Korean guy that [he saved a while ago](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12950388) and cheered him from afar whenever the two occasionally hung out. This attracted few attentions since the two were an unusual pair, but nobody focussed on them because Emmanuelle always diverted the attention by using her shock drones. Gustave described them as a dog and cat's relationship, where one radiated with showers of attention while the other remained quiet but still attached from time to time. He thought this relationship could bring out the positive synergy between the two.

“I told him to be direct when asking out.” Gilles sighs and begrudgingly describes the episode of havoc. It happened in the living room with a few bystanders around, which was a perfect place for some privacy but also a mood of composure. Julien asked Gilles to be there as a moral support and they had planned on what to say prior the event. He watched Julien sitting opposite to Chul Kyung and the two shared some casual chat. When Julien finally confessed, Gilles thought it was the perfect time after all the build-up of few weeks up until this moment. He even heard what Julien had said, so he was shocked when Chul Kyung slammed the table and gave Gilles a piercing glare before darting out of the room. Julien was stunned for few seconds and followed after Chul Kyung, but it was too late. The stealth master had gone back to the shadows and Julien could only see him during their planning phase in the future missions. Chul Kyung kept his distance from the GIGN and Julien tried his hardest to swallow his disappointment.

“What did he even say?” Vicente asks.

“Something along the line of being romantic partners together,” Gilles replies.

“There’s the problem. He jumped at least few milestones before reaching the destination.” Mike shakes his head and sips on a bottle of rum.

“If I remember, you are the one who told your boys to jump right across the whole milestone." Vicente snatches the bottle away and places it closer to Gilles.

"Them? I can't tell them to fuck off when they already have fucked, mistaken or not." Mike glares at Vicente and reaches out for the bottle. Gilles quickly passes it back to prevent Mike from toppling over the parts for his shield on the table.

“If you want to talk about milestones, Julien has been giving Chul plenty of signs.” Gilles describes the hugs, casual shoulder holds and how they were physically close to each other. Those actions had been very subtle because Julien didn't want to scare Chul Kyung away with bold moves.

“Well, that’s what mates do, yeah? Nothing special there. You guys were too quick to judge the situation. Shouldn't have confessed so soon.” Mike continues to elaborate his disapproving attitude. Despite how Gilles is annoyed with Mike's tone of arrogance, he lets him speaks since Mike seems to be knowledgeable of relationship problems than him.

“What do you mean?” Gilles puts his pride aside, asks and narrows his eyes at Mike’s smirk.

"You should have let the two keep their close relationship. Less flirting, no willy-touching and what not." Mike gulps another sip of rum and leers at the other two for chuckling at his weirdly British vocabulary. "Then he should have worked his way through, especially with a lampshade like Chul. Keep up with meet ups because where the mind goes, the body will follow." Mike blinks and frowns as if the alcohol burned his throat.

"In time, the closeness becomes something. They will make memories that are private between them. Some might say there is a wall between close friendship and romantic relation, but no. They can let it flow, allowing best friends to touch each other more than just their body. There may be times when they are stuck in the middle, which can still work out. But one day, they will have to choose which side to stick with. A side that will hurt less for both of them." Mike's perspective on romance astounds Gilles. Hearing such sentimental notion felt completely out of character on Mike, who is famous for his cynicism. “Of course, this won’t work if one of them don’t feel the same way.” Mike quickly adds, as if he has forgotten to mention the obvious.

"That is too ambiguous. They might end up hurting each other beyond repair." Although Gilles understands the metaphor of fluid intimacy between people, he isn’t compelled to agree with Mike. Gilles still thinks that it wouldn't have been a good idea for Julien to hold his feeling for Chul Kyung in the name of ‘friendship.’

“They are already hurt. They should have waited and now it’s too late.” While Gilles doesn’t appreciate Mike’s negative attitude, he is afraid to accept the possible damage that his hasty advice might have done to the two younger operators. He reminds himself that Julien and Chul Kyung are adults who can sort out their own conflicts, but the emotion that Chul Kyung showed unsettled him. Was that a fear? Shock? Or even worse - disgust?

“If the _Coreano_ rejects him,” Vicente pats on Gilles’ shoulder with a sympathetic smile, “I can set him up with Taina. She will set that boy right up.” Mike grimaces at such abrupt proposal and waves his hand at Vicente. Both of Gilles and Mike know that Taina is a cluster of troubles, but they don’t dare to mention it in front of her doting father-figure.

“I reckon,” Mike slurs in tiredness and sluggishly stands up from the stool, “that either of you or your child should do some investigation on this shy guy. Have a wee little chat with a handful of people that he talks to, or at least find out where he hides.” With his last suggestion, Mike bids farewell and asks Vicente to walk out of the workshop with him before he turns this ordeal into an arranged date.

Gilles is left alone, in deep contemplation while staring at few parts of the shield on the workbench. He wonders if he learned anything out of the conversation between him and the two who tried to help, but it all felt like some mindless gossips. He thought about talking to Chul Kyung during the mission, then decides against the idea as it seems highly unprofessional of him. Gilles feels like a failure of being someone dependable for his teammates and Julien’s heartbroken face haunts him with guilt. If there is something that he can do to solve this, he would do anything. Only if he knew what to do.

“Mr Touré?” A whisper of female voice comes out of nowhere and startles Gilles.

“Are you there?” The voice is from his phone, which has been in his pocket. He pulls it out and answers the call.

“Who is this?” Gilles askes in a low voice, holds his handgun in the other hand and stations himself close to the entrance of the workshop.

“It’s me, Grace.” The name has a familiar ring. He almost blurt ‘Grace Kelly’ and when he finally remembers, his eyes widen in surprise for this timely opportunity. He is excited to hear from Grace Nam, the other Korean who has the most direct connection with the ever-elusive Chul Kyung.

“I will cut to the chase.” Grace hushes. He can hear the faint noise of wind from the background and wonders if she is outside.

“Don’t even bother asking around where Chul Kyung is. He has been staying with me a while and he is driving me crazy. I need you to take him away and make him talk to his future boyfriend.” Gilles is taken aback by how the topic was abruptly brought up. Before he could even ask how she knew about his dilemma, she starts to talk faster as if someone is chasing after her.

“Sorry for hacking into your phone. I had to know where you were and didn’t mean to overhear what’s been said. Come up to the roof by using the ladder on the fourth floor. Gotta be here by tomorrow at noon and-” The phone disconnects and he could only hear eerie static of white noise. Gilles stares at his phone, squints in confusion and becomes very concerned of what happened to Grace. Just as he is about to run down the hallway, his phone vibrates and receives a text message.

[Sorry that the call was cut off. I'm in the middle of playing hide-and-seek with this maniac. You will be seeing him tomorrow at 12 pm, and don’t bring your friends. He only wants you.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the length of this chapter. I had some struggles to decide where this chapter would lead to the next story and had to cut out a lot of paragraphs. The next chapter will begin from Grace's point-of-view, giving us some insight of Chul Kyung's actions.
> 
> PS: Read through my works and found plenty of mistakes that I made. I fixed them now but damn am I embarrassed. If any of you could help me out with proof reading work in the future, please comment/give me a message :'(


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hyung '형' is a general term of friendly attitude for a younger male to call an older male, but sometimes younger female calls older male Hyung as well (more of a baby boomer generation.)

“아, 씨발.  
(Ah, fuck.)” Grace mutters as she leans against a wall to collect her breath. It has been some time after she has sent a message to Gilles and she had no time to take a break after the relentless leg works. She wasn’t about to admit that her limit is near, but trying to outrun someone taller and faster than her had been quite the challenge. She dries the sweat away and recaps on the events that led up to this point, which happened nearly a week ago.

Under a normal circumstance, Chul Kyung and Grace often repeated a series of conditioning exercise they had learned from the 707th SMB. Since it was his idea, Grace wasn’t surprised when he barged into her door and ordered her to start the drills with him. There was nothing out of ordinary during their first few hours of training so she was ready to leave after the last lap. When she thought it was over, he proved her wrong and asked to double the time on their regimen. They spent nearly the whole day sprinting and jumping around, and finally stopped when it became too dark to see the path. The training resumed as soon as the sun rose and she groaned with body aches when Chul Kyung dragged her to the shooting range. During these three hours, they used their shared shotguns repeatedly like a pair of garden sprinklers that spat out mountains of empty shells. He gave her no time to rest after their lunch and pushed her to repeat the same exercise from the night before until their limbs were limp. He even wrote down the full schedule on a paper and Grace was horrified to see chunks of squares and blocks. The smallest gaps were for the meal, toilet break and weapons maintenance.

“장난해? 인권 유린으로 고소할거야.  
(Are you kidding me? I am gonna sue you for the abuse of human rights.)” Grace shot her hand out to snatch the paper and huffed at her futile effort when he lifted it up high away from her reach.

“법도 안 믿으면서, 뭘. 다 널 위해서야  
(You don’t even trust the law. It’s all for your own good.)” He replied with a faint smile and gently ruffled her bang. She understood that he meant well, but it was clear that these intense workouts had different meanings to him. Grace grew worried when she saw him falter in middle of the run or accidentally load empty shells. Their shared routine became more of a careful observation on Grace’s part because she feared that his reckless behaviours may lead to health and safety problems. She wanted to ask if something happened between him and Julien but it seemed to be a sensitive subject since the two men stopped talking to each other. The hellish work-outs went on for four days and Grace would have fainted of extreme exhaustion if Monika didn’t reach out to her rescue. Along with Grace and Monika, there were a handful of other operators who occasionally had an engineering conference, which was also known as the ‘nerd party.’ One of them bribed Mark to convince Chul Kyung on the importance of this gathering and with some group effort, Grace was allowed to be off the hook for half an hour. She almost cried in Emmanuelle’s arms and began to complain.

“You know he cares about you, Grace-chen. He is trying to toughen you up. Isn’t he your, hm, hyoong?” Monika consoled and offered Grace a can of beer. Grace was tempted to take a sip but refrained as she remembered this was only a temporary break.

“형 (hyung,) and no, I am not even sure if that’s what he wants. I am keeping him a company because he is just throwing his body into this ridiculous amount of exercise. It’s as if he can’t stay still for one second.” Grace held onto the can and relished the cold touch in her palm.

“Well, he better be feeling restless because I am not going to leave him alone for what he did to Julien.” Emmanuelle scoffed and harshly yanked out a few electrical wires from her drone.

“What did he do?” Grace asked and checked the clock to see if she had enough time to gain some information on this whole ordeal.

“Wait, hasn’t he told you yet?” Emmanuelle asked in confusion.

“He says nothing about his personal life. I only know that he and Julien had been hanging out a lot together recently.” Grace sighed with frustration and rummaged through her bag for the laptop. She logged on and quickly searched for the hacked chat log between Chul Kyung and Julien’s phones. The last message was the same as four days ago when Julien sent Chul Kyung a message for a meet up in the living room. Emmanuelle peeked into the monitor and shook her head in disappointment.

“Stupid boys. They really need to talk.” Monika fiddled and straightened the wires that were crushed by Emmanuelle.

“Can you fill me in?” Grace began to feel nervous and wonder what sort of trouble had been brewing around the shy guy. She intently listened to Emmanuelle and filtered out the details that were emotionally subjective to the GIGN operators. The story started from their close friendship with disguised flirts, which Grace already knew of. When she finally heard the moment of confession, Grace immediately understood the reason behind Emmanuelle’s aggression towards Chul Kyung.

“이 쑥맥새끼.  
(This idiotic bastard.)” Grace mumbled and squeezed her hand as hard as her tired muscle would allow. This new surge of energy could help her to run outside, find the fool and knock his teeth out for his stupid decision.

“Grace, your face could kill someone.” Monika tapped on Grace’s shoulder.

“Right. Thank you for the break, guys. I have a job to do.” Grace regained some strength from her new found determination with a hint of anger. She left the can back on the table and took a deep breath to calm herself down. Different thoughts and emotions buzzed in her head as she contemplated on what to do with him. Discussing any issue that touched on his inner conflict almost always ended up being boring and interrogative. She thought about beating around the bush but that usually led nowhere. The direct confrontation may involve some chasing games, but it worked the best with him so far. She needed to gather some information, plan out what to say and hoped to inspire him to be more honest with his feelings.

Three days whizzed by and Grace had been using every second of her precious sleeping time to prepare for this moment. The ultimate piece of the puzzle was to arrange a time for a meet up with Gilles, who supposedly _advised_ Julien to take the relationship to the next level. Despite the pain and ache from her body, she pushes herself off from the wall and set her stance sturdy and firm. She hears the soft footsteps and squeezes her fists when a familiar figure approaches.

“형, 뭐 나한테 할말 없어?  
(Hyung, haven’t you got something to tell me?)” She crosses her arms, lifts her chin and asks in a soft tone. Her stomach quivers with anticipation, even more so when he scans her up and down and squints.

“…머리 잘랐니?  
(…did you cut your hair?)” He cautiously replies. Grace bites into her cheeks to chase away the flutter of laughter and reminds herself to keep the tension alive before dropping the bomb.

“그거 말고. 줄리앙 한테 고백 받았다며?  
(Not that. I heard that you got asked out by Julien?)” As soon as she addresses the elephant in the room, his eyes shoot up with weariness.

“누가 그래?  
(Who said that?)” Chul Kyung steps forward and glares down at her. She reciprocates the staring competition and clenches her jaws tight. How dare he attempt to intimidate her? She is Grace, the rebellious one. She has been facing most of her troubles and problems with her gutsy attitude and Chul Kyung isn’t about to change that.

“상관 없고. 그래서, 뭐라 했는데?  
(Doesn’t matter. So, what did you say?)” She stands her ground and continues to demand a straightforward answer.

“넌 몰라도 돼.  
(You don’t have to know.)” He takes a step back while maintaining the eye-contact. She has to think of something to say before he runs away.

“자리를 박차고 나가버렸다던데.  
(Heard that you ran away on a spur of the moment.)” Grace knows her accusation could be a risky move. She curses to herself when he retreats further and slowly turns away from her. Out of desperation, Grace follows him, places her hand on his shoulder and gives him a gentle squeeze. She gulps in impatience when she feels a slight pull under her fingertips.

“형, 진짜 그러는거 아냐.  
(Hyung, you can’t be doing that.)” It isn’t her intention to sound like a scolding mother-figure. Her stomach drops when his body stiffens. Clearly, Chul Kyung does not tolerate being condescended by someone who is younger than him.

“그만해라.  
(Stop it.)” Grace is tempted to let go when he growls in low and hushed tone, but she braces herself and pursues.

“걔 좋아하는거 아니었어?  
(Didn’t you like him?)” It is her turn to be cautious with words. Grace keeps her contact with him and leans forward to catch a glimpse of his face.

“아니야.  
(No.)” He sighs, turns toward her direction and shakes off her hand. They resume to face each other, but this time it is Grace gazing down at him as he slouches against the wall. Chul Kyung's eyes wonder off and stare into an empty space behind Grace as if he is making a conscious effort to hide the truth on his face without the trustworthy ballistic mask.

“거짓말 하지마. 둘이 같이 있을때 서로 얼마나 깨 볶는줄 알아?  
(Don’t lie to me. Haven’t you noticed how sweet you two are together?)” Grace reminisces those rare moments of witnessing the mellow expression that he forgets to hide around Julien. She had noticed the amount of time Chul Kyung spent in finding a perfect spot to be close-but-yet-far from Julien, which hardly mattered because Julien always shifted closer regardless of where Chul Kyung sat. He often sneakily placed a large piece of meat from his share to Julien’s, or handed out an extra amount of fruits and lectured the classic ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away.’ There were also times when Chul Kyung constantly walked ahead of Julien but randomly halted to tie his shoelaces or intentionally slowed down to be caught up.

“줄리앙이랑 있을때 행복하지 않아?  
(Aren’t you happy when you are with Julien?)” It isn’t a question but more of a plead for honesty from him. His attention briefly returns to her, then quickly diverts to somewhere else.

“그게 중요한게 아니야.  
(That’s not important.)” He mumbles as if he is talking to himself.

“뭐가 중요한데?  
(What is important, then?)” She probes and wonders if her voice is heard through his sub-consciousness.

“내 임무. 국가를 위해 바치는 이 몸,  
(My duty. This body that I devote to the country,)” The monotone whisper is soulless, giving a further emphasis on his blank expression.

“사람나고 나라났지, 나라나고 사람났어? 도데체-  
(People make the country, not the other way around. How can you-” Grace is irritated with his dull responses. There were times when she regarded his pensive attitude as some sort of mindless patriotism, which caused a huge misunderstanding between them when he ‘offered’ to help her out. It took a while for her to understand that his true intention wasn't part of General Kuh's order. A North Korean and a hacker. Both of them were outcasts of a kind in their homeland, so their mutual understanding grew into an unusual friendship. 

“그리고 너.  
(And you.)” There it is. The annoyingly self-imposed big brother finally shows a spark in his eyes when he talks about someone he really cares about. Seeing that he bears the similar compassion for Julien, Grace decides to help him in admitting those feelings that he may not be aware of.

“내가 뭘? 나 형 없이도 잘 살수있어.  
(What about me? I can live well without you.)” She fully means what she says because it is about time for him to be less paranoid for her safety.

“퍽이나. 넌 아직 철부지 애야.  
(As if. You are still an immature child.)” He dismisses and scoffs. Grace feels her temper rising; her lungs heat up and lips are dry. She breathes in and out, then readies for the final attempt to have a civil conversation with him.

“난 어른이고, 내 앞가림 정도는 다 할수있는데, 형은? 형은 미래에 대한 생각이 하나도 없어?  
(I am an adult who can look after myself, but what about you? Do you think nothing about your future?)” The words almost seeps through her teeth. She waits for a reply and expects some sort of movement from him. A few minutes pass and when Chul Kyung finally moves, he pats on her head and walks past her. When Grace regains her senses, she realises what had just happened and something snaps inside of her.

“야, _____!  
(Hey, _____!)” The whole area echoes with her hoarse bellow as she calls out his previous name, the one that his deceased family used to call him in North Korea.

“너 지금-  
(Did you just-)“ His wide-eyed astonishment brings a sense of satisfaction in midst of her anger. She regrets on using the remnant of his childhood, but it serves him right for being such a stubborn mule. If the man wants to dwell in the past, she may as well wake him up with something that he had been actively encouraged to forget.

“나 때문에 니가 독거노인으로 쓸쓸하게 죽는다면 내가 행복할 것 같아?  
(Do you think I will be happy if you die as a lonely old geezer because of me?)” She smacks him flat on the back to distract herself from being overly upset. 

“은혜야, 잠깐-  
(Grace, wait-)“ Chul Kyung forgets to dodge the blow due to the mental shock and grumbles from the unexpected pain.

“지금 널 아껴주는 사람이 나타났는데 그냥 놓칠 셈이야?  
(Are you going to miss out on someone who cares about you?)” She throws another punch and scowls when he blocks her arm. Her voice begins to choke as she tries to swallow down the sizeable lumps in her throat.

“외롭지 않아? 가족 만들고 싶지 않아?!  
(Aren’t you lonely? Don't you wanna make a family?!)” The knuckles on her fists turns white as she pounds on the concrete wall that still has the warmth of human contact. Grace shudders from the jolt of absorbed shock in her hand and wishes her physical pain would hide the tears.

“진짜 줄리앙을 좋아하지 않아?  
(Don’t you really like Julien?)” She asks again and hopes this would be the last question for the night. Both look into each other’s eyes and she sees how fast he blinks, appearing to be taken aback.

“좋아해.  
(I do.)” There comes the response that she sought out to hear. His eyes glint with thin lines of moist, which he rubs out hastily.

“좋아하는데, 그 사람이 죽으면. 내 마음속까지 들어와놓고, 죽어서 또 내 마음에 구멍을 남기면.  
(I like him, but what if he dies. What if he lets himself into my heart, dies, and leaves another empty hole.)” His usually composed tone is shaking with heavy breathing. He is reliving his childhood trauma, the tragic memoirs of witnessing familial deaths.

“너 지키는 것도 간신히 하는데. 난 잃는것에 지쳤다, 은혜야.  
(You are someone that I'm barely protecting at this moment. I am tired of losses, Grace.)” When his voice cracks, she almost breaks down with him. Although his face is hidden in the shadows, Grace can see a single drop of tear hanging on his chin. She is guilty of rehashing his old wound, but he has been too passive with his personal problems. Grace wants to break down the mask that shuts his emotions away because it kept him away from the compassion that he deserves. 

“내가 지켜주면 되지.  
(I can protect him.)” She clears her throat, pulls up her slumped colleague and beams at him. Grace owes him part of her life and it is her turn to return the favour.

“억지 부리지마.  
(Don’t be absurd.)” He gives her a weak grin and shakes his head. Grace rolls her eyes at the same old negative attitude, pinches his arm and smirks at the reaction of pain from him.

“형이 날 지키면, 내가 걜 지키고. 걔가 형을 지켜주면 되지. 다른사람들도 있잖아. 줄리앙네 팀 보니까 다 듬직하고 한 떡대 하더만.  
(When you protect me, I can protect him, and he can protect you. There are others too, you know. Julien’s team looks strong and sturdy.)” She pulls her phone out and sends the contact numbers of the GIGN to Chul Kyung. He insists that it's unnecessary and she rightfully ignores him.

“혼자서 앓지마. 이렇게 소통하면 돼잖아.  
(Stop suffering alone. We can talk things out, just like this.)” Grace nudges his shoulder and stumbles when he playfully pushes her back. They sluggishly stroll back to the barrack in silence, out of serene contempt combined with utter fatigue. When they reach inside, Grace is eager to bid farewell and rush off to shower.

“아, 내일 옥상으로 올라와. 형을 만나고 싶어하는 사람이 있어.  
(Oh, come up to the roof tomorrow. There is someone who wants to see you.)” She yells across the room before Chul Kyung walks off to the opposite direction.

“누구?  
(Who?)“ He asks and furrows his eyebrows in suspicion.

“줄리앙 아니니까 걱정말고 가봐.  내일 12시, 꼭 이다.  
(It’s not Julien so don’t worry. Tomorrow at 12 pm, you better make it.)” She answers with a wide smile and runs off to the women’s shower bay, not wanting to hear any objection from him. Now it is all up to Gilles because tonight’s conversation may as well be meaningless without a proper finish. Will the older Frenchman be more thoughtful this time? Grace is aware of the difference in their personalities but Gilles is partly responsible in this matter. If he wants to help Julien, he will have to clean up the mess made by his supposedly righteous advice. It may have been more appropriate to call Julien rather than Gilles, but Grace wants to broaden Chul Kyung’s social boundaries so maybe one day when he is stressed, she won’t be the only one to care for him during his work-out frenzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. There are a lot of Korean dialogues here but I couldn't help but to write them out and feel more personally connected to these characters. I tried to finish this part of the story in one chapter, but I guess they will have to be told in the next one or possibly in a different fic.
> 
> Thank you so so much for Mirae and Momo for beta-reading this chapter. Mirae helped me to realise that my tenses are all over the place. Did I mention her amazing artwork? Here we go. She draws goooooood. https://mi723.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

The view on the top of Hereford Base isn’t the prettiest. Its damn right ugly with grey concrete and empty dirt roads, but it's also the place that one can observe the horizon of conifer forests and grey skies of England. The cleaner scenery of the foreign land of Europe is very different from the morning mist of South Korea and Chul Kyung is more comfortable of waking up to the murky and azure dawn from his home base. He had been antsy all night, not knowing what to talk about with the person who he probably doesn’t know too well. The only reason he agreed to this absurd idea is to appease Grace who stayed by his side during his phase of a reckless hamster in a gym ball. He takes a slow breath to calm his nerves but nearly chokes on his own spit when the door at the staircase suddenly squeaked.

"What a place to chat." A certain giant of a man greets with a shut-tight grin. Chul Kyung returns the greeting with a short nod minus the eye-contact. He is even more uncomfortable at the fact that Gilles, the person who he gave a death-stare, is the one that Grace arranged for a so-called casual chat. The general etiquette is different in England but he tenses up regardless, especially whenever he meets up with someone who is considerably older than him. Chul Kyung gulps when Gilles comes closer  for a courteous handshake.

"Nice to see you again. I was surprised when you ran away. Have I offended you?" The way Gilles mentions the subject is discouragingly tactless. Chul Kyung shifts his posture to face Gilles for a brief moment, making an effort to respond.

"No." He lies, breaking the eye contact and shifting away. It was rash and stupid of him to glare at Gilles when Julien confessed to him but he didn't appreciate the way the older Frenchman watching them, especially considering it felt like an intrusion of privacy.

"Oh. You looked very upset when Julien spoke to you.” Gilles continues to press on the incident of the dramatically rude exit. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Chul Kyung tries to change the topic.

"How is he?" He finally looks at Gilles to ask of his former friend. Gilles nods at the eye contact and sighs.

"Not too good." Gilles explains that Julien hasn’t been himself for the past few weeks. Even though the hopeless romanticist put on a strong facade, it couldn’t fool his closest peers. Emmanuelle had to carry the taller man around, and Gustave was empathetic of the sappy young man and told him to give his crush a bit of time.

"I see." Behind those overly simple responses, Chul Kyung's heart aches with guilt and self-pity towards his incapability of pursuing a relationship that he secretly treasures.

"You should go and talk to him. He misses you." The suggestion is not something that Chul Kyung hadn't thought of. During his time of busy contemplation, he thought over what to say, how to react or even thinking of giving up on the relationship. If he didn't drag Grace along, he would have fallen into a ditch or shot himself in the foot. Minutes fly by along with gust of wind, and he starts to feel the tip of his nose becoming numb. Just as he thinks of something else to say, Gilles begins fidget his foot and stare at the door. Alarmed of his bad habit of slow responses, Chul Kyung’s mouth opens to say something that isn't a complete garbage.

"I am sorry for my actions. I was afraid." He figures an apology is appropriate and sighs in relief when Gilles smiles at him for the first time in their awkward conversation.

"What were you afraid of?" Gilles asks, moving closer to Chul Kyung and resting his arms on the ledge. Preferring to keep his wide personal bubble undisturbed, the shy Korean steps back a little and keeps his eyes low.

"Not being able to protect the people who I care for." He briefly explains Grace’s situation with their homeland organisation and the loss of family in his childhood. Gilles speaks some words of condolence and pats the other man’s shoulder.

"While I understand your fear, I need to ask the reason behind your motivation of joining the army." Gilles scoots closer to Chul Kyung who squints in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I joined to be a proud son to my father. He was an officer, you see." Gilles recounts the day he joined the National Gendarmerie. His mother wasn’t too happy about her son walking into a life of peril, but she knew that it had been his dream career ever since he was a child. As an army officer, his father displayed the utmost importance of good moral values. He had been a hero in little Gilles’ mind, who protected everybody that he held dear.

"Then I worked my way up to GIGN, determined to keep everybody safe. But as you know, failures are not nice to look at. I have been in many near-death situation with my comrades and felt the sense of defeat whenever I saw their coffins. I hated myself for not being able to protect them." The story allows Chul Kyung to imagine young Gilles with his trustworthy shield, desperate to block off the bullets in the frontline and gasping at the ones that flew past. Gilles describes the danger of his blind conviction to save everybody which led to an extreme exhaustion that nearly killed him.

“On the fifth day of marching without any rest, my arms gave up. I thought I was holding my shield, but every bit of my body had been pushed to the limit. The enemy shot my shoulder and knocked me out of consciousness, combined with my fatigue.” The injury wasn’t fatal and he was only pulled out of duty for few weeks. He used those times for some self-reflection and thought over his immature obsession to be the hero.

"One day, I asked myself why I even bother lifting this shield. What do I want to achieve by throwing myself into the front line, when there will be casualties no matter how much I try.” Gilles stops his story to give his audience a moment to take it all in. Chul Kyung has been leaning in closer to Gilles with full of interest because the question relates to him on personal level. Although he never intended to be someone great, Chul Kyung has been pondering upon his purpose in the army and wondering if he will ever manage to achieve what he desires.

"It's a simple answer. It came to me when I took a break with my comrades for a drink. I felt it when I lazily laid on the couch to watch some corny soap operas. The answer is here, even right now, when I am talking to you." Neither of them say anything at the sentimental remark.

"I thrive to protect those around me so I can enjoy my time with them. To save their lives and give everybody the chance to enjoy their days." It almost sounds like an altruist's dream but Gilles states his own basic need for happiness, which is something Chul Kyung had been preventing himself from.

"Death is always around the corner, Chul Kyung. But it's sad to see you pushing yourself away from the ordinary slices of joy that you deserve." There are no lies in those words. The aloof man bites into his lip and remembers the real reason why he chose this path of career. He knew it all along but didn't want to admit it, afraid of the bigger disappointment after acknowledging what his lonely heart needed.

"Tell me honestly. Why did you join the army?" Gilles asks and nudges the other softly on the arm.

"To belong." Chul Kyung replies and kicks some dirt on the ground out of embarrassment.

“Is that so?” Gilles steps closer for some sympathetic pats on the back.

"Yeah. I wanted to have a family that won't leave me." The Korean reiterates and lets out a dry cough. Admitting his wishes feels so alien and exposed, considering the amount of time and effort he had spent to hide any kind of emotions within him. His mask began to crack with Julien's help and Grace pulling him out of his shell. Hearing Gilles' motivation to join the force gave him some courage to voice out what he has been craving ever since he arrived in South Korea.

"I guess the Korean army didn't give you that sense of belonging." Gilles asks and Chul Kyung nods at the assumption.

"If not, you can find it here. Julien is a good guy. Too good, in my opinion. He will never leave you alone so do tell him if you want things to be slow. You might even want a refund after you accept his piece of mind." Both laugh and joke about how Julien reminds them of a needy puppy.

"He is already a handful." Chul Kyung chuckles and rolls his arms to stretch his stiff muscles from being unnecessarily nervous. They share some casual chat and decide to bid farewell before either of them catch a cold. It's unusual for him to initiate a handshake or any kind of physical contact with a person that he barely talks to, but Chul Kyung extends his hand out with a faint grin. Gilles clasps the sweaty hand and adds few words of reassurance. With a sense of newfound courage and composure, Chul Kyung sets out to find the man he truly cares about, someone that he wouldn't miss for the world. It's time for a change and for the first in a while, he is not afraid to step out of his comfort zone. The older operator beams in pride and quickly picks up his phone to share his triumph with a few of the others.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, the three old musketeers gather by the living room to hear Gilles' success in talking to the quietest man in the base. He pays gratitude to Mike for the relationship advice, which Mike reacts by rolling his eyes with the most obvious expression of 'I-told-you-so.' They exchange a few sips of tea from the Brit's pot and Vicente leaves the room for a toilet-break. The conversation is put on hold as if Vicente has been the third spinning gear that kept the conversation rolling. The two men don't open their mouths until Gilles decides to break the silence.

“Was it your personal experience?” Gilles quietly asks.

“What was?”

“Choosing which side to stick with.” Gilles mentions the relationship advice again and watches Mike gently shakes his head with a slight frown.

“Just some shenanigans that I heard." Mike answers and pours another cup of tea for himself while ignoring the piercing attention from the curious man.

"Hm. Sounds very detailed for mild gossips.” Gilles knows that he was being nosy but his inquisitiveness pushes the basic etiquette away.

“I had some flings but those were outside of the battlefield. We all remained as friendly strangers. Nothing significant.” Mike let out an exaggerated sigh and cocks his eyebrows at Gilles as if he is graciously granting the desired response. Gilles doubts that Mike regards those flings insignificant and wants to hear more sincere responses.

“How about someone from your job? On our line of work?” Gilles dares to delve further into Mike’s past because he is intrigued of the aspect that Mike never seems to talk about. If some of their youngsters manages to find love in this base, Mike can surely find someone rather than rotting away old and alone.

“Fuck no. I can’t afford to waste my time on a person who might die tomorrow, today or at this very hour if those terrorist bastards barge in.” Mike appears to be mildly annoyed now and downs the hot liquid as if he is ready to leave at any moment.

“What if there is someone who would like to be with you after retirement?” That is the core of Gilles’ inquisitiveness, asking about a situation where Mike would have someone to rely on.

"Who, you?" Mike’s blank response almost makes Gilles drop the cup and spill the tea on his lap. He turns his head to face an unreadable expression from the tired Englishman. It is a half-smile that may pass this whole situation as a joke, but his eyes give a different message. They are shaking as if Mike sees a lost hope that he gave up a long time ago along with his livelier days. Gilles regrets breaching into Mike’s innermost self, an exhausted veteran of almost forty years. When he hesitates to respond immediately, Mike breaks their eye contact and lets out a hollow chuckle.

“Ah, I’m just pulling your leg. Simmer down, mate.” Mike stands up and slightly sways. Gilles stands up as well to help out but Mike firmly pushes the taller man back into the chair, denying the smallest act of courtesy.

“Don’t bother.” Mike mutters and slips out of the living room. Gilles is left alone with his own thoughts again, with a fresh knot of confusion in his stomach. What was the intention behind Mike's joke? What had he done to bring out that kind of response? Was that even a _joke?_ He holds the urge to run after Mike for a clarification because he is aware of the damage that his foolish mouth has caused. His mind continues to boggle over the situation that he didn't anticipate and the strange sensation in his stomach when Mike called him out. This is the first time for Gilles to see through Mike’s mental barrier, witnessing a lonesome soul. A lifetime worth of devotion to violence can't be healthy for any human being. He wonders if those years are finally taking a toll on Mike, which may explain the uncharacteristic pretense. Supposing the jest is genuine, this may be the most depressing confession that he has ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty damn late that I shoutout to my friend  
> https://umami-boi.tumblr.com/  
> for being the detailed beta reader ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Two months aren’t too long in an overall span of a human life, but 56 days of being subjected to a constant torture is a different story. It was the darkest period of time for Vicente who had been trapped in a windowless room with three other sweaty civilians, all soaked in filth and tears, and God knows he was doing his best to keep them calm in the worst situation of his career. His best attempt to console wasn’t due to his idealistic sense of justice as a member of CORE. It was more for his own safety, all thanks to these sadistic criminals who didn’t miss out on chances of hurting him whenever someone frantically chant prayers on loop.

“Pai Nosso que estais nos céus,  
(Our Father who art in heaven,)“ and there it was. Vicente couldn’t blame them but he was so tempted to excommunicate himself from the church if he managed to walk out of this hellhole alive. That was the fifth prayer that he and the other gang member had heard and both of them knew what this meant. Vicente and the hostages were dragged out of the confinement at 0300 on dot. They were taken into a separate room, a little show for the hostages to see the lively torture. The gangs entertained their 'guests' by mercilessly pounding on the non-lethal area of Vicente's body, as if they were determined to temper his muscles tender.

“Deus deve puni-lo!  
(God shall punish you!)” A shrill cry grabbed the gangs’ attention. They stopped beating Vicente for a brief moment and wiped off the blood off of their fists and boots.

“Deus não se importaria. Estamos apenas ensinando um cachorro algumas lições.  
(God wouldn't care. We are only teaching a dog some lessons.)" One of them grabbed a pistol and swung it straight across Vicente’s temple. His vision blanked out along with daunting crack that echoed in his fading consciousness. Throughout the process of the confinement to the rescue, the left side of his face burned and ached as if his entire nerves were being seared into his eye socket. The story is simple after that; he woke up with half of his vision lost, CORE made him into a local idol, BOPE allowed him to be back on the field and now he is sitting in an empty kitchen with a cup of cold water to soothe the occasional phantom pain and perpetual nightmares. Vicente sips on the icy cold water, and spends a moment of two to subdue the pulsating ache and recollection of his past, but it isn’t as simple as that. His entire life is an opposite of ‘forget and forgive,’ which is almost a curse for those who suffered in any favela. He had to stay strong for his family and swore to channel his anger for the justice. Underneath the calm and collected image that he conveys in the public, Vicente has been distracting himself from becoming a vengeful mess against the criminals. He has been determined to form connections wherever he went, to contain the rage within the shell of an approachable ‘captain’ of the group. It had been something that he built throughout the years in BOPE, so when he joined the team Rainbow, he thought it wouldn’t be any different and continued to be the man of calm. All changed when he began to associate with Montange and Thatcher, the two men who allowed Capitão to be Vicente. They have been open to share their past horrors and post-traumatic insomnia, which Vicente fully appreciated. Behind the crude jokes of ‘who is more miserable,’ the three treated each other as equals.

In amidst of agony and nostalgia, Vicente finally snaps out of the trance. He notices a slight shift of the dining chair and hears a soft rustles of fabric on his left. Most of the considerate folks try their best to be on Vicente’s right, so he can roughly see without feeling intruded. However, this particularly cheeky intruder is sitting on his blind spot, intentionally sneaking around for no apparent reason. Judging by the soft rustle instead of sharp zipping noise of a polystyrene, it must be one of the elder ones who prefers to wear cotton.

“Are the boys at it again?” Vicente asks the usual, which has become the only humorous reason behind Mike’s insomnia.

“Yeah, could hear their saliva smacking right next to me,” Mike answers and places a solid object with a gentle thump, “and I forgot to clean this beaut.” Vicente shifts back for a clearer view of the object and watches the other man scooping out some soggy tea leaves from the teapot to a jar. It is the same pot that Vicente had seen hours ago before his toilet break.

“Say, I didn’t see you two when I came back. Gilles must have had more to brag about being the great bridge of love for Julien and the Coreano.” Vicente catches the pulsating shadow under Mike’s jaw, which dissipates within a second.

“Couldn’t sit through his yaps,” Mike chucks the last bunch of wet mess away, “so I’ve walked out to do something better.”

“I’m quite sure that listening to Gilles would have been a better choice than going back to your dorm.” Vicente throws a tinder for a banter to break the ice. He expects to hear more of the trade-mark gruff that is unique to Mike.

“Preach more, Solomon,” an unexpectedly calm response slips out, “since you know what the best is.” There it is again; the overtly tightness in the jaw as Mike shuts his lips tight to form a fake smile while feigning to ask for an unwarranted advice.

“Of course. We need another night of an honest to good poker.” He plays along with Mike and suggests an idea. Both of them know that Vicente is far from honest during the game, but that is the running joke behind this small gamble. As far as Vicente knows, Mike has never failed to tease Gilles who loses composure during the unfair gamble.

“Aren’t you too lax while on duty?” Mike taps his fingers on the table, changing the subject.

“I think you are too uptight.” Vicente chuckles, keeping the mood casual. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying ourselves, Mike. Retirement will hit us soon anyway.” As soon as he finishes the sentence, the drums on the table stop.

“Such senile thought,” Mike gathers his tea pot and jar, “is what will get you killed before your rightful discharge.”

“Thank you for the concern, amigos.” Vicente raises his cup to the man who is hasty to leave the kitchen.

“Right.” Mike scoffs at the gratitude and walks out of the room, leaving Vicente unfazed by the cold behaviour. It is a known fact that Mike is not a fan of quitting on his life-time occupation, but denying the usual fun night that they share? It is slightly uncharacteristic of the Brit who always emphasises on teamwork built upon good relations. Deciding to assume that Mike is possibly grouchy from lack of sleep, Vicente rinses the cup he has used and walks back to his dorm. He is ready to relax and allow the pain to slowly ebb away.

 

 

The daily routine of morning drill and breakfast ensue. The mixture of chatters and clatters chase away the sluggish mood of Monday morning, adding vivacity to the conversation between Gilles and Vicente while they are choosing what to eat from the buffet-styled catering.

“Don’t tell me that you never cheat during the game.” Gilles asks as he carefully places a big scoop of scrambled egg on his tray.

“Accusing me again. What shall I do to prove you wrong?” Vicente clicks his tongue as he scans over the dining tables to find seats for them. He sees two of their usual crowd and tugs Gilles who is about to scoop another.

“Bet on your cigars next time, then maybe I will believe that you are innocent.” Gilles blindly follows, focusing all of his attention on the jiggling egg-mountain of fluffy and buttery goodness.

“As if you can appreciate the fine culture of tobacco. I’d rather bet on something else.” Vicente places his meal on the table and sits next to the eldest operators of Spetsnaz and SAS. The three men share brief greetings and general comments on the exercise they had earlier, forgetting about a man who is standing still and quiet at the sight of certain someone.

“You must like your food cold.” Alexsandr jabs Gilles’ leg with his fork and smirks at the jerk reaction followed by series of harsh curses in French. Contrary to the usual, Gilles settles down next to the Russian instead of his British comrade.

“I was saying, you are past the age of tomfooleries, Baker. There are trenches under your eyes.” There is some truth to Alexsandr’s crude comment. Despite his best effort to appear intimidating, Mike looks more like a grumpy insomniac who had drunk gallons of black tea to pull an all-nighter.

“All mouth and no trousers. Remember who won against you at the shooting range this morning.” Mike clicks his tongue, raises his cup in devious glory as he takes a large gulp of black coffee. His brows furrow from the overwhelming bitter flavour but mouth is grinning, clearly pleased with his feat.

“Keep on talking, but you all should have scored better than me.” Vicente chips in and scratches on his left cheekbone under the eyepatch. The other three roll their pair of healthy eyes but dare not to deny the fact.

“You do look fatigued. Didn’t you sleep well?” Gilles decides to put an end to the limitless boasting between the prideful veterans and directs the topic back to the bags under Mike’s eyes.

“No.” The reply is awfully short and dampens the mood. Unlike Alexsandr who is chowing on his bacon, Vicente slows down on his food to listen and observe.

“Well, I will be down at the workshop to tweak some more on my shield. Care to come over?” The hesitant pauses in Gille’s voice is minute, possibly overridden by a forced nonchalance. From the corner of his eye, Vicente can see Mike’s fingers drumming on the table.

“Next time. I’m bloody knackered anyway.” Mike stands up, dumps few of the bacons on Alex’s tray and walks out of the table. Gilles stares at the leaving man, with his mouth agape in confusion while holding tight onto the cutleries.

“Hey.” Vicente taps on Gilles’ shoulder before those fork and knife are bent to the point of no return. “He’s just tired. Don’t worry too much.” It’s clear that the words of comfort aren’t much of a help to Gilles who seems all too distracted to even hear what Vicente has just said. Nothing much is shared between them until Gilles excuses himself to his usual activities for a stress relief. What a pity. There has to be something that Vicente can do, maybe he could dare himself to take on the role of a mediator. Losing an eye has encouraged Vicente to learn two important aspects in life; to be more perceptive of his surrounding in every possible way and the preciousness of having genuine friends who won't judge by your appearances. It’s about time he uses his self-proclaimed suave personality in order to secure a small composure from the friendship that he fully intend to enjoy, before and after his retirement.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Other than Vicente himself, there is another figure who has been watching them afar with a gaze so intense which may be mistaken for an absurd hostility. Taina is not the friendliest or the softest individual in the Rainbow team, so some may assume that Vicente is on her murder list due to his fatherly display of affection towards her. A handful who are close to Taina knows that the woman of favela appreciates such caring and considerate manner from the older operator, so no wonder why she would think dearly of him and worry about his life after the retirement. Initially, Taina was against the idea of Vicente’s late sleep at night because of the silver town club of oldies, but eventually she learned that the camaraderie of the similar age group and experience is healthier than being in their own BOPE group. Despite her annoyance, their friendship is something that she can’t ever offer. That doesn't mean that she isn’t concerned about the general relationship of the three musketeers, because sometimes Mike and Gilles seem closer to each other, often leaving Vicente to be meandering around. She thought this dynamic won’t change anytime soon until she saw the incident in the dining hall this morning. Mike looked as if he had seen an eyesore and Gilles was visibly agitated. Knowing that Vicente cherishes their friendship, he would surely try to butt in and be the big guy. That means Taina would also be spying on what would happen between the three, so she can be there for Vicente and throw him some lavish liquour in case either one of them are too grouchy.

After creeping around Vicente for a while, she has found him settling down on the warmest part of the sofa under the direct sunlight. Knowing that he would stretch out those rigid joints and reminisces on the humid climate of Brazil, there is a low chance of him leaving the seat for a while. She observes him calling someone on the phone, which is a great chance for her to throw the ‘borrowed’ Gyro Cam on the ceiling behind the couch and then perch herself in the garage with her smartphone on. The surveillance screen shows with excellent visual and motion feedback, and this satisfies Taina who is taking a guilty pleasure out of fooling around with the cam. She stops moving the camera as she spots a familiar tall figure entering the room. Of course it is Gilles who seem very eager to plop down right next to Vicente on the sofa. They share a handshake and stare at each other for a while. One of them opens his mouth, the other replies and the two men engage in a conversation with their body posture relaxed as they lean their backs on the couch. Taina cranks up the volume to hear their words but no matter how many times she presses the plus button, the sound is mute for no apparent reason. 

“Venha, sua coisa estúpida.  
(Come on, you stupid thing.)” She growls while pressing the home button and regrets not listening to Meghan’s boastful instructions when she allowed Taina to set up the camera during their first few training a year ago. It involved far too many different steps of installment and who really has time to hear all that? During the futile attempts to reboot the application that connects to the Black Eye, she flicks the screen on and off to be vigilant. There hasn’t been any drastic movement from either of the men because they are just talking, chatting, hands and arms motioning only to aid what they are saying, Gilles leaning on Vicente’s shoulder, Vicente pulls back with big smirk, they resume back on the distance they had few seconds ago, Vicente touches Gilles’ shoulder, Gilles leans to bury his face, Vicente pulls Gilles up, his hands on Gilles cheeks to- _what?_ Was that a stroke or a pinch? Has Taina missed out on witnessing a questionable intimacy?

“-WOULD LOVE- thank you.” The sound finally comes through with a boom, startles Taina with its loud volume so she had to press the volume down to nil and then up again to hear the dialogue.

“Don’t be. It wouldn't be the same without your-“ Vicente’s sentence is cut short due to an abrupt vibration on her phone. The screen blacks out with a tacky cartoon logo that she absolutely despises to see during their practice rounds. She answers the call and cringes at the obnoxious greetings.

“Heya. I don’t mean to snoop on you and your Electra complex, but Meghan really needs her camera back.” Grace’s voice is shaking, which Taina is confident to assume that the Korean is holding her laughter back on the other line.

“Fuck you. Come and get it yourselves.” Taina ignores the other woman’s response and disconnects. From what she has gathered, something very emotional has happened between the two men. It would be dangerous to guess what really happened due to the defaults and disturbances, but Gilles and Vicente appeared to be somewhat more connected without Mike in the picture. Although she shouldn’t have spied on them, she is somewhat relieved to see that everything appears alright. Vicente and Gilles could be the new ‘best friends forever’ without the gloomy third wheel, and she is not going to hide her bias for the older Brazilian’s happiness. Unbeknownst to her knowledge, she couldn’t have predicted the underlying problem to resurface so soon the next day in the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me hella lot time to write this. Thank you for Silky who helped by being a proof/beta reader :D  
> Pardon the badly translated Portuguese - I used Google translate on this. If it needs to be fixed, please let me know and we can fix it together!


End file.
